


Let Me Make it Up to You

by janelane93



Series: Attachment [4]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janelane93/pseuds/janelane93
Summary: After failing to return Nathaniel Essex's diary, a young Remy LeBeau is sent to make restitution.
Series: Attachment [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653436
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is going to be my first chapter work and I am TERRIFIED y'all! I'm going to try to post a chapter a week. (EDIT - oh I was so young and stupid when I made that promise. I guess I didn't try very hard.)
> 
> \- There will be past child abuse implied. 
> 
> \- Yes, there is more to the birth that Essex knows about and we don't yet. I'll get to that in another story at some point, so stay tuned.
> 
> \- This is my version of Essex and Remy's "how we met" and is kind of the groundwork for my other stories featuring them. So this is a prequel I guess?
> 
> \- I hope you like this story and thank you for reading! :)

Nathaniel Essex had been pacing the floor in a luxurious New Orleans hotel room for hours. He had been in town for a week, and though his business here was ostensibly complete, he found that he couldn't return to Seattle just yet. He wouldn't be leaving with his lost journal, but then that had only been a cover for his true goal: meeting Remy LeBeau. In that regard, his fact-finding mission had been a resounding success.

When rumors of a demon-eyed boy with the power of the devil in his fingers had first reached him, he had been doubtful. All evidence had shown that the baby had been stillborn, so horribly malformed that his death was a mercy. He hadn't believed it, of course, and a cursory investigation had revealed the subterfuge of the doctors and the child's father in orchestrating the cover up. But then, the cover up had gone wrong. The babe was to have been euthanized and then disposed of in the hospital's incinerator. But the infant had disappeared from the hospital room where he had been shunted off to while the doctor broke the terrible news to his grieving mother. Gone, just like that. Stolen, and not by him, not by Lord Apocalypse, not by anyone who could possibly have known who or what he was.

And then, fifteen years later, the boy simply winked back into existence. A thief, adopted by the leader of the Thieves Guild at some point, though he'd been unable to suss out when exactly. Remy was clever and capable and showed enormous potential, even at such a young age. Nathaniel could practically hear the power thrumming through the boy's veins. Oh yes, this was the child who went missing so long ago. There was no doubt about that.

He could keep an eye on the young man from afar easily enough now. There was no need to hover around him, in fact doing so might pose a danger to him. After all, if Sinister had an interest in the thief, other more unsavory figures might begin to notice. He knew he should leave, and he would have, but for one thing: the boy was leaking psychic pain all over the astral plane.

He had picked up on it as soon as he arrived in New Orleans. It was like an aurora borealis of blood hovering over the city, practically screaming to him and likely to any telepath within a hundred miles. How had Remy been wounded in such a way? He had never encountered anyone with pain that intense who was still sane, and yet the child had smiled politely, shaken his hand, and asked for information on the job, perfectly calm and seemingly unaffected by what should have been a mortal mental wound. What had happened, Nathaniel wondered, and how could he fix it? The child wasn't going to be any use to him if he was the psychic equivalent of a faulty car alarm.

Not to mention that there were plenty of people who might be attracted to the boy's pain and wish to make it worse for their own purposes. The Shadow King came to mind, and the thought of someone like him getting his hands on young Remy LeBeau made his stomach churn. He had to find a way to repair whatever damage had happened to the boy's mind.

But his job was done. The diary had not been retrieved. He had no other business with the Guild, and the last thing he wanted to do was to raise the suspicions of the boy's adoptive father.

His ruminations were interrupted by a knock on the door of his hotel room. A quick telepathic peek revealed that it was Remy himself standing in the hall. He had been so lost in thought that he had tuned out the psychic noise him around him, and was shocked now to find that he had been so absorbed in his own mind he had not noticed that the subject of his worries had materialized on the other side of the heavy oak door.

He rose, and opened the door, feigning surprise.

"Remy?" he inquired.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to child abuse and Jean-Luc LeBeau being a garbage human being.

Nathaniel Essex and Remy LeBeau were settled comfortably in the little seating area by the windows of Essex's hotel suite. He had invited Remy in, of course, and insisted the boy sit down. Nathaniel was now looking at the young man opposite him and wondering what this stunning new development could possibly be about. He waited patiently for Remy to speak.

The boy was sitting perched on the edge of the plush armchair opposite him with his brow furrowed as though unsure of what to say. Well if Remy was at a loss for words, Nathaniel thought, then he didn't feel so badly for being confused himself.

The psychic screaming that accompanied Remy was swirling around him like a fog, thick enough that Nathaniel could almost see it. He didn't dare probe the child's mind. Whatever agony that he carried would almost certainly be intensified by any kind of telepathic interference, so he settled for merely observing closely the odd phenomenon that emanated outward from a mind that seemed impenetrable. Most people could be "read" quite easily - unless they had experience around telepaths and had learned to shield their thoughts. Remy's mind didn't appear to have shields, but somehow he couldn't see into his mind, like it was a black hole. 

Remy was clearly uneasy, seeming to be at war with himself. So Nathaniel waited with a kind expression and an air of having all the time in the world.

Eventually, the boy spoke.

"M'sieur Essex, I was jus' thinkin' about t'ings, an' I feel awful dat I couldn' get your journal. You paid such a awful lot o' money, an' you got not'in for it..." He trailed off, making a vague motion with his hands.

As he spoke, something remarkable began. It was almost as if his mind was reaching out through the fog around it and somehow projecting his emotions to Nathaniel. He felt a mixture of regret, fear, and... dread? Why was the boy so apprehensive?

The older man broke the silence.

"It was a risky undertaking, to be sure. I wasn't expecting the journal to be returned, merely... hoping. You went to a great deal of trouble in the attempt, and you must be compensated for your troubles."

"Well you're a very understandin' person den, plenty o' customers don' much like not gettin' dey're valuables delivered."

"I imagine you have some rather demanding clients."

"Oui, but I'm real good at keepin' dem satisfied." Remy said with an odd smile.

"Are you?" Nathaniel asked with an arch of his brow.

The boy nodded, and moved with catlike grace, lowering himself off the armchair and coming to crouch in front of Nathaniel's. He smiled shyly and peeked at the older man through thick lashes, putting a tentative hand on Nathaniel's knee. "Real good," the young man repeated, "I could make you feel so good, m'suier." The hand on his knee moved slightly higher up his leg.

Good Lord. Was this boy, this child, trying to seduce him? Nathaniel was not a stupid man, in fact he was rather more intelligent than most people on earth, yet in this moment he felt utterly lost. The boy was watching him with a sweet, innocently seductive expression, trying to gauge his response, while at the same time his mind was positively screaming in terror. The contrast between what he saw in front of him and what he felt from the damaged psyche on the astral plane was making his head spin. What in God's name was happening? Nathaniel asked himself, momentarily lost, until he felt Remy's hand inch even farther up his thigh, and he was brought jarringly back to the present moment.

He covered the hand with his own, halting it's upward progression. Remy's hand was trembling, ever so slightly.

"Stop." He spoke sharply, and the boy froze, as if he had been struck. He removed the invading hand from his leg, and Remy sat back on his heels, looking down. "What are you doing?"

Remy wouldn't meet his eyes, so he reached out, cupping the boy's chin and tipping it up so he could see Remy's face.

"I- I was jus'...I have to make up for not deliverin' what you hired me for." He whispered. He smiled a tiny, sad smile. "It's ok, I know what to do."

Nathaniel looked at the young man crouched on the floor in front of him. He let go of Remy's chin, and Remy lowered his eyes again. Why on earth would he think - why would he expect that Nathaniel would want him to - was *that* why Remy had come here? To offer his body as payment? Oh dear God. Nathaniel felt a dawning horror as he realized what this meant, why Remy was so frightened.

"Remy," he asked in what he hoped was a calm voice, "Is this what happens when you don't deliver what you have been hired to steal?"

The boy nodded, with brows furrowed, "I t'ought you knew, mon pere sent me here t'do whatever you wanted..."

His father did what?

"Your own father sent you here, to a man old enough to be your grandfather, to be... abused?"

"He said it's de only way I'd learn, dat it's good incentive not t'mess up if I know what's comin'. I don' mess up much, when what I been hired t'steal actually exists-" he stopped himself here. Nathaniel felt another wave of horror but couldn't tell this time if it was from the frightened young man before him or from himself. "Actually exists?" But then that would mean-

"You have customers who hire you to steal items that do not exist?"

Remy was quiet. He frowned a little, and swallowed. He nodded.

"And then they hurt you?"

Another nod. "Sometimes dey just beat me up real bad, but sometimes dey want ot'er t'ings." He replied in a quiet, sad voice.

"And you thought I wanted 'other things'?"

Remy winced at that. He opened his mouth to explain, but Nathaniel stopped him with a raised hand.

"I am not a pedophile." He stated coldly.

The boy sat fully back now, so that he was sitting on the floor. Nathaniel could practically hear the wheels turning in his mind, trying to come up with a way to placate him. The boy was watching him cautiously, unsure if he was going to be struck. He needed Remy to calm down before they both drowned in fear and pain. His own chest twisted in anger. Jean-Luc LeBeau was sending his adopted underage mutant son to be defiled by criminals on an apparently regular basis. He would deal with the man in time, but for now -

Nathaniel sighed and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed a hand across his brow. Those alien eyes were still wary.

"Remy, there has been a terrible misunderstanding. The fault is not yours, however, and I apologize if I have frightened you." he spoke calmly and sincerely, hoping that the boy would respond to his genuine regret.

Some of the fear left Remy's eyes as he spoke, and the young man leaned forward a bit. He nodded, still worried, but at least not panicking.

"Y'not goin' t'hurt me?" he asked softly.

"No, child, I do not want to hurt you. I want to help you."

At this, the boy's brows furrowed again. "Help me?"

"Do you know what a telepath is, Remy?"

Panic. Utter, overwhelming panic took his breath away. Remy's mind was raging again, utter terror radiating out from him as if a bomb had gone off in his mind. But there was no outward sign of distress from the lanky teenager sitting on the floor at his feet, aside from a quick glance at the door, which was behind Nathaniel's chair and to one side a bit. Was he thinking of running?

"I- I've heard dat word b'fore, I t'ink." he replied, with a quiver in his voice, which told Nathaniel all he needed to know.

"You have been hurt by a telepath, haven't you?" the older man asked gently.

Remy looked down, and nodded.

"I am not going to hurt you." Nathaniel repeated, lowering himself from his chair to crouch in front of the frightened boy. He reached out slowly and placed a hand on Remy's trembling shoulder. Remy met his eyes, and the two looked at each other for a long moment. Remy seemed unsure of whether to trust him or to bolt for the door. Nathaniel maintained eye contact, waiting and wondering what he would do if the boy did make a break for it. Red on black eyes searched cool blue ones for... something. Would he find it?


	3. Chapter 3

Remy let out a shaky breath, and nodded. His eyes were wide and frightened, but he nodded. Nathaniel closed his own eyes briefly, grateful for the boy's trust. He took the young man by the arm.

"Here," he said, "Sit." and he guided Remy back to the armchair he had poured himself out of a few minutes before. The older man pulled his own chair closer and sat down. Remy was watching him, those alien eyes somehow full of trepidation and hope at the same time.

"Please tell me what has happened to you, Remy. Who hurt you?"

The young man looked down at his hands, and then up at the ceiling, as if he didn't know how to start. He pursed his lips and returned his gaze to Nathaniel. He began.

"It was almos' a year ago, now. Mon pere sent me on a job in Moscow, it was a real easy one, jus' sneak into a lab and steal some files. I been doin' jobs like dat for a long time. But somet'ing went wrong. As soon as I got inside de facility, I could feel it. I decided to bail, my instincts ain' never been wrong, an' I listen to dem. But before I even got turned around t'leave, I got hit. I was out like a light an' when I came to I was tied up in a chair in a little room, and dere was a beautiful blonde lady sittin' across from me.

She started askin' me questions. Who hired me, who I was, what I was doin' dere, t'ings like dat. I didn' tell her nothin' cause I'm a professional, y'know? She said she's goin' t'get answers outta me one way or anot'er an' she brought in a couple o'big mean lookin' guys. Dey roughed me up f'awhile and I still didn' tell her anyt'in. She's gettin' madder and madder de whole time an' finally she sends out the muscle an' it's jus' me an' her again. I was bleedin' pretty bad by dat point and she said since I wasn' afraid t'get my body beat up, she's goin' t'see how I like havin' my mind beat up on. 

I don' know what she did. I ain' never felt anyt'ing like it. It was like a firecracker went off in my head. An' all de bad t'ings dat ever happened to me - when I was real little, an' when I was on de streets, and evryt'in', all jus' came back all at once. It was like she put my mind into a blender, an' mixed up all de bad t'ings. It hurt so bad, I t'ought I was goin' to die. An' den when I didn', I wished I had.

She had been in my head, she'd seen it all, so she knew dat i didn' know who had hired me. Mon pere sent me dere, he didn' say who was payin', just 'go an' do dis job'. But she kept askin' who had hired me. Over an' over, an' I was screamin' an cryin' an beggin' her t'stop. I don' know why she kept askin'. She was laughin' de whole time too. 

I don' know how long i was dere. It felt like years but I t'ink it couldn'a been more den a few days or I woulda died.

De next t'ing I knew, I was in a psych ward at a hospital in Guatemala. I didn' remember who I was or how I got dere. I was dere for a couple'a weeks 'til I remembered enough to know I needed t'get out. I did, an' I got t'a Guild safe house as soon as I could, an' I came home, an' mon pere was glad t'see me. I had been gone four mont's. Dey all t'ought I was dead. I went t'bed an' slept f'a week, an' I felt a lot better, an' mon pere sent me out on anot'er job de next day."

Silence filled the room. Reliving the memories of his torture had not been easy, and Remy was shaking slightly in spite of the heavy warmth of the sun shining through the room's large windows. 

Nathaniel sat in stunned silence, processing what the young man had told him. Dear lord, it was no wonder the mention of the word "telepath" had caused him such fear. This had happened a *year* ago? He would have been fourteen years old, barely more than a child. Perhaps that was what had saved him from insanity? The resilience of youth and a young mind not completely formed? Regardless, there was work to be done. Nathaniel shook himself from his reverie and addressed Remy, who was watching him with trepidation.

"I am so very sorry, Remy, what happened to you was... unconscionable. It must have been a nightmare, and the fact that you survived is a testament to your strength."

Remy's cheeks flushed a bit at that.

"But," Nathaniel continued, "I'm afraid that there is lingering damage."

The boy's eyebrows rose.

"Do you know what the astral plane is?"

A shake of his head, no.

"In the same way that our eyes can see the physical world, a telepath can 'see' the mental world. All people, everywhere, exist in the concrete reality we can see and touch, and their minds exist in this psychic realm. Does that make sense?"

A nod here.

"I am a telepath as well, Remy," he began, and the boy's expression became guarded, "And a few weeks ago, I sensed a disturbance on the astral plane. A presence that was crying out in agony, like a beacon of pain. I followed that beacon to it's source and found... you."

"Me?" Remy asked with a squeak, "Y'mean I'm- I'm shootin' out pain an' I don't even know it? All over dis... Astral plane place?"

"I'm afraid so. And if I was able to sense it, and to find you, it means that your mind would be vulnerable to anyone else on the astral plane, including telepaths like the one you encountered, ones who take pleasure in hurting others."

The boy looked quite afraid indeed now. He was still shaking, and his eyes were bright with fear. This simply wouldn't do, Nathaniel told himself. He reached out to put his hand over Remy's, covering the trembling hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I can help you. I can show you how to protect your mind, to build barriers to keep out anyone but the most powerful telepaths on the planet." Himself being one of them, but of course he didn't want to brag, or to intimidate the boy.

"Really?" His eyes were shining with hope now, "Y'would do dat f'me?"

"Of course. If you will allow me to?"

Remy nodded enthusiastically. "Oui, what do I need to do?"


	4. Chapter 4

Nathaniel Essex was a man used to knowing the answers. For over a century he had been unlocking the secrets of mutant DNA and human genetics. He didn't like not knowing. But he did very much enjoy the ah-ha moment, when a puzzle was solved and he was victorious over his nemesis, uncertainty. 

He had been plagued by the mystery of young Remy LeBeau for a week. Part of the puzzle was completed: why the boy's mind was leaking pain into the ether of the astral plane. Now he was attempting to shore up the fractured pieces of the young man's mind and repair the damage done by a telepath who had tortured him to the brink of insanity. 

But making telepathic context with Remy's damaged psyche would not be simple. The storm of fear and pain had lessened, at least, as the boy had calmed down considerably. 

He gently reached out to touch Remy's temples with his fingertips.

"Just breathe, and try to stay relaxed." He advised.

He closed his eyes and reached carefully with his mind, probing the swirling emotions around the black hole that was Remy's mind. There was surprise at first, and the beginnings of fear, but Nathaniel projected calm reassurance, and the storm lessened. 

*You're doing very well* he spoke telepathically, not sure if his words would be "heard" by the opaque psyche. He was rewarded immediately by a stirring of happiness, and the blank vortex in the center of the storm suddenly became clear. 

Before he had a chance to consider his next move, the swirl of emotions had swept him in, and suddenly, he was inside the boy's mind.

He gasped out loud. Another mystery solved! Remy's mind was a thing of beauty. He knew in an instant that this was the mental landscape of an empath.

An empath! Good God, the young man was an empath, that was why his mind had been projecting his emotions, why he had been able to withstand the torture he had endured, why he had trusted Nathaniel when he had no logical reason to - empaths, even untrained, damaged ones like Remy, had instincts which even the most powerful telepaths couldn't begin to compare to. 

He saw, all at once, the life of Remy LeBeau: the memories of his time with the Antiquary, the years he had spent on the streets struggling to survive, his first contacts with the Thieves Guild, and also what Remy had done with his journal. Ah, yes, that little issue would need to be dealt with.

He now understood the boy, immediately. One of the benefits of being a telepath was that to look into another's mind was to know them intimately and instantaneously. What might take a person years to discover about someone else, he knew in the blink of an eye.

This young man was quite remarkable indeed. And he was in desperate need of protection. A mind like this, defenseless and broadcasting across the astral plane, was dangerous.

With a deep mental breath, he gathered his wits about him and set to work. 

*I'm going to show you what to do* he spoke to Remy's mind. He felt, rather than heard, his assent. Nathaniel stretched out with his own mind, reaching to the far edges of Remy's, and began raising a wall from the soil of Remy's unconscious. Once the boy could see what needed done, he was able to help. Nathaniel watched in fascination as a brick wall began to build itself through their combined efforts.

*Very good* he encouraged Remy, but he could see that the wall was not strong enough. Remy's mind was too damaged, too broken, to be able to fortify itself. 

This was going to be a long night.

***

As dawn broke the next morning, Nathaniel sat back in the armchair, tired but satisfied. Remy had tried valiantly to erect his own barriers, but they had proved to be as delicate as eggshells. Rather than telling him, Nathaniel had simply layered shields of his own making around the boy's mind. As far as Remy knew, it was only his mind protecting itself. This would certainly be better for him, to feel that he had done it himself, and to be unaware of Nathaniel's protection. 

They had worked for several hours, with a short break for dinner delivered by room service. Remy had done his best, it was admirable really, how hard the child had worked. But not long after dusk, he had grown weary, and had dropped off to sleep in his chair. Nathaniel had carefully laid him in bed and covered him with a blanket, which he promptly snuggled into, while the older man completed protecting the boy's mind. Remy was safe, his mind hidden from the astral plane by shields that only Nathaniel himself would be able to breach. He was, effectively, invisible to telepaths. Nathaniel would be able to find him, of course, which was certainly handy.

A soft sigh from the bed alerted him to Remy's awakening. The boy sat up, blinking confusedly for a moment before realizing where he was. His eyes widened in panic.

"M'suier Essex, I fell asleep? I didn' finish?" He asked frantically.

Nathaniel stood and approached the bed, placing a reassuring hand on Remy's shoulder.

"Of course you did. We finished hours ago, but you were very tired, and I could not let you leave in such a state. You needed to rest. Now, how are you feeling?" He asked kindly as he sat in the edge of the bed.

"I feel..." Remy considered, "I feel good. Safe, like my brain isn' all jumbled anymore." He smiled.

"Good. Very good." Nathaniel couldn't help smiling back.

"I don' know how to t'ank you f'helpin' me. Y'saved my life, I t'ink." He began. Then the boy lowered his eyes, furrowing his brows. "But M'suier, I lied t'you. I did find y'journal. I looked inside an' it was full of bad t'ings. I t'ought you were bad too, so I blew it up." He looked up again with shame in his eyes.

"Yes, child, I know."

Remy looked surprised. "Y'do?"

"I did just spend the better part of a night inside your mind, after all. I am glad that you destroyed the journal. Working there, in that lab, with such terrible things going on, it..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words, "it turned me into someone I did not want to be. That is why I left. But I was afraid someone would find the journal, would see what horrible experiments were being done, and would try to recreate them. I wanted to be sure no one would ever have access to that information. I was going to dispose of it myself," he smiled, "but you saved me the trouble."

Remy's pained expression eased as Nathaniel spoke. He sighed with relief.

"Dat's good den."

"Indeed it is. Now then," he said, standing up from the bed, "will you be staying for breakfast? I'm afraid I have a rather early flight scheduled, but I do not need to leave right away."

Remy scrunched his face to look at the clock on the bedside table. He smiled as he replied.

"Naw, dat's alright M'suier Essex. Y'already gone t'so much trouble over me. Mon pere be expectin' me home soon anyway." He stood and ran a hand through his messy hair in a futile attempt to make himself appear less rumpled. He looked up at Nathaniel, "Will I ever see you again?" He asked, almost shy.

Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow at that.

"I certainly hope so." He was writing something on a page of thick hotel stationery. He turned to Remy and gave him the paper, with a phone number and a Seattle address written in elegant old-fashioned script. "Should you ever find yourself in need of assistance, or employment, please do not hesitate to contact me. I should be delighted to have you turn up in Seattle anytime."

Remy grinned cheekily as Nathaniel walked him to the door.

"I might jus' take you up on dat, M'suier Essex."

Nathaniel offered the boy his hand for a parting handshake, but Remy stepped closer and embraced the older man in a warm, welcoming hug.

"T'ank you." He said, muffled by Nathaniel's shoulder.

"You are more than welcome, Remy." He replied as the young man stepped out of the embrace. Another grin, and a flash of his demon eyes, and Remy departed. 

Nathaniel listened to his soft footsteps going down the hall, then the staircase, and then out of his life, for the time being at least. He sat on the edge of the bed again, comfortable in the silence of the morning and the satisfaction of a job well done.


End file.
